


Spiders on Alcohol

by Anarchyduck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Crying, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Underage Drinking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyduck/pseuds/Anarchyduck
Summary: Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way.“Peter are you drunk?”The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!”“Oh my God.”OR: Tony gets a late night phone call and has to go save his dumbass intern.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 206





	Spiders on Alcohol

_“Sir, you have an incoming call from Mr. Parker.”_

Tony’s first thought is the kid is hurt. The rational side quickly takes over, reminding him that if the kid was hurt then he would receive a message from his AI Karen. The kid could be - has been - on death's door and wouldn’t call. 

His second thought is how late it is. The time on the stove read 12:30 in glowing blue numerals which is way past the kid’s curfew. 

A third rapid thought is it’s also Peter’s night off. His suit isn’t active; FRIDAY would have told him the second it became active. 

“Patch him through.” Tony says as he rinses off a plate and puts it into the dish drainer. 

_“Yes sir.”_ FRI replies. 

There is a brief pause then Tony says, “You’re lucky I don’t need sleep. What’s up?” 

When he doesn’t immediately receive a response, he frowns and turns off the water. Paranoia tugs at the edges of his mind and Tony shoves back the worst case scenarios that try to pop into his mind. He opens his mouth, the kid’s name on his tongue, when Peter finally speaks. 

“Mis’er Stark?” He sounds confused. “Why… Why do you have Happy’s phone?” 

It’s Tony’s turn to be confused. “Because you didn’t call Happy, you called me.” He grabs a nearby dish towel to dry his hands. He can hear what sounds like a car honk and Peter’s breathing. He’s not at home, clearly.

“Oh… Shit.” Peter mutters something Tony doesn’t quite catch. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean… Meant to call Happy. Not-Not that I don’t like talkin’ to you, Mis’er Stark. You, you’re cool and uh…” 

“Yeah, I am cool. What’s going on, kid?” 

“Uhm…” Tony hears the hesitation and for a split second he thinks Peter may hang up on him. “Can, uh, can you…can you like, come get me?” The request is so small, so quiet, and Tony knows something is wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony says immediately. His heart rate spikes with anxiety. Damn kid is going to be the death of him one day, he knows it. God. “Yeah, I can get you, where are you?” 

Peter sighs with relief. “Huh? Uh I’m uh, what street is this… I don’t, hold on-” 

Tony slips on a pair of loafers (grandpa shoes, as Peter calls them) as the call shifts seamlessly from the overhead AI to his phone. He grabs his wallet and keys on his way out the door, and is in the garage by the time Peter comes back on the line.

“Fifth and, uh, Fifty-Nineth.” 

Tony nods to himself as the car revs to life. “Okay, Fifth and,”-- and he pauses as it dawns on him --“Wait, Fifth and Fifty-Nineth? What are you doing so far out of Queens?” 

“I don’t have to stay in Queens all the time.” Tony can practically hear those brown eyes rolling. “I can like go other places, _have_ gone other places! There’s like, a whole big ol’ world out there Mis’ser Stark and yeah Queens is big too I guess and like-” 

Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way. 

“Peter are you drunk?” 

The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!” 

“Oh my God.” Tony breathes out a breath. “FRI, find the quickest route. Kid, you stay put. I don’t want you to move an inch off that sidewalk. Got it? Find a bench and park it.” 

\------------------

He finds the kid exactly where Peter said he would be. He’s laying on a bus bench, one arm hanging over while the other is crossed over his eyes. For a split second, Tony thinks he’s asleep (passed out) but he sees Peter’s leg bouncing where his foot is planted on the concrete. 

“Hey, underoos.” Tony calls as he climbs out of the vehicle. The kid stirs, arm uncovers his face as he looks at him with a goofy grin. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sits up and practically jumps from the bench. He sways a little on his feet, takes a step back, then bounds forward, damn near skipping as he meets Tony at the car. “Hey, man, wow, you’re here. Cool.” 

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” Tony circles around the front of the vehicle where the teen is leaning against the passenger door. He doesn’t look hurt. No blood, no bruising. However, the closer Tony gets, the stronger he smells alcohol, particularly on Peter’s breath. “Wow, damn kid you smell like a brewery.” 

Peter’s brows pinch together as his eyes widen. “Really?” He puts a hand up to his face to check his breath. “Wow.” 

“Yeah, wow. Okay, come on let’s go.” The kid doesn’t put up resistance as Tony puts him into the car. Peter leans back into the leather, eyes wide as he stares up, unaware as Tony buckles him in.

He breathes out and giggles. “Feel like I’m floatin’.” 

Tony snorts with amusement and shuts the door. He rounds the car back to his side, gets in and takes off onto the road. At first, he thinks of heading straight for Queens and depositing the kid at home. But the penthouse is closer and the more responsible side of Tony’s mind says he shouldn’t leave a drunken teenager alone. 

“All right,” he starts. “So spill. What are you doing over here.”

“Got invited to a party.” Peter runs his hand against the bit of smooth metal on the door. “And like,” he sighs as he nestles into the seat. “It was so weird, Mr. Stark because I didn’t know no one, anyone, and it wasn’t anythin’ like Liz’s party. Ned wasn’t there and MJ wasn’t there and it was so _weird_ , Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah?” it’s all Tony can say to that as the kid barrels on forward. 

“Yeah! Liz, Liz didn’t have alcohol because we were all underage anyway and her dad would’ve killed us. He tried to kill me, ya know? Like… a few times. God what if the dude who owns that house back there is like, this… big super villain who I gotta fight later and how weird would that be? Get invited twice to a party where the-the guy tries killin’ me later.”

“I would say that would be very weird.” Tony agrees. “And that you probably shouldn’t put that out there in the universe.” 

Peter groans and Tony glances over to see him fumbling at the side of his seat. It takes him a second to realize what the kid is looking for.. “FRI, lean his seat back.” 

The kid’s eyes go wide as the seat reclines back and he laughs lightly to himself as he lays back. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He drags a hand over the side of his face and pokes at his cheek with another laugh. “My face feels weird.” 

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, bet it does. How much did you drink?”

“Uhhh…” Peter trails off as he keeps poking his cheek. “More than one?”

Oh yeah, the kid was going to be feeling it later. “Just promise you won’t throw up in the car.”

\------------------

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t puke in the car. They make it back to the penthouse and by the time they walk through the door, Tony is almost carrying the kid. Peter rambles the entire way, making comments here and there; talking to Tony; talking to FRIDAY; talking to himself. He’s leaning heavily, stumbling in his steps, and giggling. 

“Okay webs,” Tony sets the kid down on the bed in the guestroom. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some water.” 

“‘Kay.” Peter says as he flops back onto the bed.

Should he remove his shoes? Tony tries to think back to what others did for him, but comes up with nothing. God what he wouldn’t give for Pepper to be here. She would know what to do. Luckily the kid makes the decision for him and kicks off his shoes as he curls up onto his side. 

“Going to get you some water. Don’t move.” Tony says again, pressing his voice a little firmer to drive his point across. Peter doesn’t do much more than hum in reply and he feels confident enough the kid will be fine for at least a couple minutes. 

Tony runs a hand through his hair as he breathes out a sigh. How did he get stuck babysitting a drunk teenager? That said, it couldn’t be any harder than babysitting a stabbed teenager. Least the kid doesn’t have to worry about needles. May Parker crosses his mind as he fills a glass from the tap and he takes his phone out of his back pocket to send her a message. 

_Your kid is staying over at my place for the night. Don’t worry, he’s ok. Working?_

Tony receives a reply much quicker than anticipated. 

_Double shift  
Trouble?_

Well that certainly explains how the kid snuck away from home. He can’t see May letting her sixteen year old nephew go to a party where alcohol would be served. Hell, he’s still wrapping his head around the idea Peter willingly went to a party on his own. He types out a reply:

_100% grounded._

The phone pings with another quick reply.

_Totally  
Ty tony _

Tony sets the phone down and picks up the glass of water as he rounds the kitchen island to head back into the room. He fully expects to see the kid right where he left him, curled up on his side or maybe on his back again. Humming or singing to himself, complaining about the room spinning. Instead, he finds an empty bed. 

He sets the glass on the bedside table while glancing about the room. “Kid?” he calls, eyes even stealing a look toward the ceiling because who knows at this point.

It’s the sound of gagging and retching that directs him to the bathroom. Door is left open, lights off, and when Tony flips them on, he finds Peter vomiting into the toilet. 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” he sighs.

Peter gags and spits into the bowl. “It went through my _nose _.”__

__Tony grimaces sympathetically. “That’s gross,” he says. The kid heaves again. Tears run down his cheeks as he gasps for breath, no doubt fighting the nausea and contracting muscles. It’s a fight Tony himself knows all too well and lost far too many times. The nights when he was caught in another bender, coming home from some nameless party with or without some nameless face, and always ending up exactly where Peter is now._ _

__How many times was someone there for him? How many times was he alone?_ _

__“I’m so s-sorry.” Peter lets out a strangled sob. “I never… I didn’t mean to be, so stupid.”_ _

__“You’re not stupid.” Tony says as he wets a washcloth in the sink. “A dumbass, yes. But not stupid.”_ _

__“Never should’ve gone to that party. Bad idea. Dumb idea. Didn’t… I didn’t even know no one there and I jus’ wanted to be cool.”_ _

__Tony scoffs. “By drinking a shit ton of alcohol? Yeah. Real cool.” He frowns to himself at the firm undertone and adds, “But I get it.”_ _

__Peter spits another sting of bile and takes the offered washcloth to wipe his face. He manages to flush the toilet and attempts to stand on his feet, only to sway backwards and hit the wall with a thump._ _

__“Ow…” the kid groans and Tony is sure he’s being tested by some form of higher power._ _

__“Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s get you up before you decide to pass out in my bathroom.” He grabs the teen by his arms to pull him up, finding himself doing most of the lifting despite Peter’s clumsy and fruitless attempts to stand._ _

__“‘m not gonna pass out…” Peter sniffles as he leans against Tony. He’s still clutching the washcloth._ _

__“You know,”--Tony maneuvers them back into the bedroom and sits Peter on the edge of the bed-- “for a scrawny kid, you’re solid as hell.”_ _

__“Not scrawny.”_ _

__“Uh huh.” Tony picks up the glass of water. “Think you can hold down some water? You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t, believe me kiddo.”_ _

__Thankfully the kid manages to take a drink without spilling it on himself. Even manages to put it back on the nightstand without slumping over. “Okay, spider baby, bedtime for you.” Tony eases him down onto the bed on his side, ignoring any and all mumbled protests (“I’m not a baby.”). He draws the blankets over him and leaves just long enough to grab the trash bin from the bathroom._ _

__Peter hasn’t moved from his curled up spot, but Tony knows the kid isn’t asleep yet. He’s staring at the wall ahead of him, seemingly unaware. Part of him is impressed the teen hasn’t passed out yet._ _

__“Penny for your thoughts, kid?”_ _

__Peter slowly blinks then frowns. “You’re like… super rich, Mr. Stark. My thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”_ _

__“A quarter then.”_ _

__“Cheap.” The kid mutters with a small hint of a smile. It’s gone alarmingly quick as Peter begins to worry the edge of the blanket between his forefinger and thumb. “Jus’ thinking… my Uncle Ben said he’d buy me my first beer. Said it’s like… a dad thing or whatever, but since I don’t have one, he said he’d do it.”_ _

__Ben was a rare subject and one Peter didn’t bring up lightly. It wasn’t fair for the kid. The universe kept throwing more and more shit at him and it wasn’t fair. Anyone else would turn bitter but not Peter. He was good and kind and unlike anyone Tony had met. He’d do anything for this kid._ _

__“Well,” Tony sniffs and clears his throat as he sits on the edge of the bed beside Peter’s legs. “My dad never did that stuff with me either. I was already at MIT when I was your age, going to parties and sneaking into bars. Doubt the man would have done it anyway.” he adds with an undertone of bitterness before charging forward. “Anyway, I’m just saying when you’re older, and I mean when you turn twenty-one, how about I buy you a beer?” The blankets shift and Tony feels eyes on him. “Unless it’s overstepping, which I completely understand and-”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__The words stop dead on his tongue and Tony finds the courage to look at the kid. There are tears in Peter’s eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah?” he presses and the teen nods. A strange weight lifts from Tony’s shoulders to the point he finds himself smiling in return. “It’s a deal then. So no more drinking until then or else I’ll find another intern to dote on.”_ _

__“No you won’t.” Peter yawns and settles against the pillow, eyes drooping close. “‘m your favorite.”_ _

__Tony smiles and brushes back some wayward curls from the teen’s face. “Yeah, you are.”_ _


End file.
